Paperman
by awkwardegleekell
Summary: He's just a regular guy in a boring black and white world. It's amazing what a stain on a piece of paper can do.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, or Finchel or the short animation Paperman. All rights go to RIB and Disney. **

**I was on facebook the other day, and one of my friends shared a link to this Disney animation. It was the cutest thing ever, so I decided to make a one shot from it. I'll post the link to the video on my profile, so I give you...**

**Paperman**

i

He's standing at the edge of the platform. He's taking the Z train to work. He's got a pile of papers that he needs to fill out in his hands, and of course, the train just had to be late today. Sighing to himself, he continues to stand and wait for the train that will take him to the place he dreads most. Work.

ii

The train is still late. It's been ten minutes. Will it ever come? He has half a mind to just leave the station and get a cab, the train must have a good excuse to be late. A piece of paper flies by his head and a short but striking brunette chases after the paper. He catches it in the air, his football skills coming to use. She stops and gives him a small smile of gratitude, before taking it from his hands and putting it into her own file folder.

She's kind of pretty. She has bangs that frame her face and long silky hair that he would just love to touch. Her nose is a little bit big, but it makes her stand out from the other girls.

They stand beside each other on the platform. Shyly sneaking glances at one another, each time a train passes, their mouths move to make a sound but quickly closes because of shyness.

iii

A train passes by particularly quickly and a piece of paper flies straight into the brunette's face, blocking his view of her beauty.

He quickly moves to pull the paper from her face. Her face is scrunched up as if she was afraid that the paper would do serious damage to her face. She looks at the paper and gives a small smile at him.

He looks down at the paper and her bright pink lipstick has made a mark, staining the crisp white with a candy apple shade. He looks back up, his eyes searching for the woman. But she is gone.

A movement catches his eye. He sees her entering a train and sitting down, but right before the train zooms away, she looks back. And then she is gone, once again. He stands at the platform, still clutching the paper that was marked by her lips.

iv

He catches the train, 30 minutes late, thank you very much, you good for nothing subway system. He slowly trudges to work, slowly trudges to his cubicle and slowly trudges to go to his boss's office.

"Hudson. You were 15 minutes late to work today." Ms. Sylvester says as soon as she hears Finn's presence in the room.

"Sorry, ma'am, but if you would let me explain. The tr-"

"I don't want to hear your stupid excuses, Finn. If the train was late, then you have to strive to catch the earlier train. As a result, you've missed out on filling out some important paperwork," Sylvester hands him a huge stack of papers. "I want it done before lunch."

He stares at his boss, his mouth gaping in disbelief. There was no way that his boss wanted him to finish a week's worth of paperwork, within three hours. It was just not possible. Deciding not to get into an argument with his boss, who he depended on for employment, Finn left the office quietly.

v

He's filled out twenty already. It's meticulous. Look through the papers. Fill out some blanks. Correct mistakes. Reject the improperly filled out ones. Accept the properly filled ones. He's guessing that to other people, he probably looks like he is a slave. Filing papers for all of eternity. That's how it feels like now. Paper after paper after paper after paper...well, you get the picture. The office feels colourless. There's no joy. No smiles. Only a whole lot of slaves at their desks. Is he imagining it? Suddenly they all look the same.

He looks out the window. He was so happy when he was assigned a window cubicle. If he was working in sweatshop-like conditions, he could at least have a view of the world that he longed to be free and roaming in.

He looks at the building across from him. It looks the exact same as the building that he works at. Tall and gray, with lots of windows. He bets that it looks the same in the inside too. Lots of unhappy people stamping papers in sync. Chained for life. If only the dreamer that was his five year-old self could see him now.

He opens his window a little bit to let some air in the room. If he's going to be here, he might as well have some fresh air.

He looks down at his desk, the stained paper lays lifeless on the desk, reminding him about how he failed to meet the stunning brunette.

A lone wind enters through the window and starts to sweep the stained paper off the desk, right before it can take it away fully, he plucks it from the air. He's halfway out the window when he sees it. He sees her.

vi

She's sitting in front of a woman. She seems like she's being interviewed. He sees the sign on the building. Pillsbury Enterprises. Was that the talent agency that he heard about on the news? She's smiling at a ginger. He wants to get her attention. He waves his arms, but his efforts are useless. She's too captivated into her discussion with the lady.

Dejectly, he sits back down. He looks at his desk. Papers. Lots and lots of papers. He just wishes that he could fly over there and—that's it! FLY. What flies? Planes. Paper airplanes.

vii

The first paper that he sees is the stained one. No. He can't use that one. That onw is special. He has to use one of the hundreds of useless ones that his boss gave him. He folds a paper airplane. Crisp, smooth lines. It's going to make it. He just knows it will.

viii

He doesn't make it. It soars downward into the traffic below, slowly becoming tinier and tinier until it is out of sight. No worries. He has plenty of paper. He folds another paper airplane. Crisp, smooth lines. That's the trick. It soars and he holds his breath as it...

ix

He misses. He misses the window by an inch. But he has more paper. No problem. He folds another paper airplane. Crisp, smooth lines. Precision is the key. He throws it soars into a window, which would have been perfect if it was the right window. A chubby man picks up the airplane and looks at him smiling. He looks in shock at the chubby man and waves his arms as if to signal, "No. That was not intended for you."

The man grumpily glares at him before crumpling up the plane and throwing downward into the sea of yellow cabs.

x

He misses. He misses every single throw. They get close but none of them make it. He reaches toward his basket for another paper. His hand is clawing at air. He's run out of paper. His paper basket clatters on the ground.

His coworkers stare at him like he's insane. He sees his friend Artie in the corner moving his own paperwork closer to himself, as if Artie was guarding his papers.

He looks in the direction of Ms. Sylvester's office. He sees Sylvester glare at him from behind the glass doors that encage her.

Gulping, he slouches lower into his office chair. Peering at his desk, there is only one paper left. The stained one. This is his last chance.

Crisp, smooth, and straight lines. That's the trick.

xi

He trips. He trips before he can even throught the damned paper airplane. It soars downward, not even giving him a chance of redemption. Even worse, her interview is over, and he can see her leaving.

He turns away from the window, determined to retrieve the paper. His last connection with the brunette. Or even better catch up with her.

He is stopped when he slams into the broad chest of...his employer. Ms. Sylvester.

Ms. Sylvester kind of gives him a look that reads, "Don't mess with me, boy. I mean business. You leave the office, and you are done here for good." The cruel, cruel woman hands him a new stack of paperwork, twice the amount as before.

She turns away, heading back to her office. A swift slamming of the door echoes throughout the office.

An empty cubicle is left in the corner, the paperwork left unfinished. A shocked employer stands in the middle of the office.

xii

He rushes out of the building, he doesn't even take the elevator. He just runs down 8 flights of stairs. He opens the front door of the building in a haste.

He sees her turn around the corridor of the block. He runs across the street, barely missing the cars that threaten to hit him.

After crossing through the Red Sea, he is lost. The brunette is nowhere to be found.

And now, he doesn't even have a job. He sees the stained paper airplane sitting on the curb.

Angrily, he picks up the airplane and puts it into his pocket, and makes his way home.

xiii

It's been weeks. Eventually, he just gave up trying to find the mystical brunette that haunts his memories. He's still trying to find a job.

He's lonely. He needs someone in his life other than his mom.

xiv

He meets this blonde woman. She's pretty. Pretty hot. She's kind of controlling. It kind of freaks him out.

He always has to wear what she wants and do what she wants. It gets tiring.

One day, he hangs out with one of his old co-workers, just for old time's sake.

"How's work?" he says, but he doesn't really care.

"It's the same. It's normal."

"But don't you want to experience the world?"

"The world? What's life if you don't work?"

"Don't you want to learn love? Or see the sun set? Or finally feel in love? Isn't there something in this life other than work?"

"No. I don't really follow what you're talking about."

It was just a waste. Is it weird that he seems to be the only one that cares about life outside work? Sometimes, he even thinks that his girl cares more about work than him.

His phone vibrates against the table, signalling a call. From her. His hot HBIC girlfriend. If only he could mute her and picture the brunette's face on her. That would be heaven.

xv

They end things a few weeks later. He questions why she's always at work and not him. She seems to care more about her co-worker with the stupid hair than him. She always has to work on projects with him. He's skeptical.

A week after that, she calls him, crying, and begging to get back together. She's pregnant, and alone. He denies her, claiming that the kid isn't his, which was probably true, but truly, he just wants to find the _one. _And the blonde floozy isn't the _one. _

xvi

This girl might be the one. She's got pretty, shiny, dark hair. A Latina. That's exotic. Someplace he's never been. He wants to travel. He's stuck in this black and white world where nothing colourful happens. Oh, how he wishes to explore.

This Latina is flawless. She's amazing at everything and she knows how to get what she wants. The only problem? He thinks she plays for the other team. But in a world that he lives in, being different is the same as being a witch. Bad news.

xvii

They break up a few months later. He catches her with some blonde girl. She looks at him shocked, but he promises her that he'll keep her secret. After all, she kept his. What's his secret? Nothing big. Just that he's holing up all his money so he can just escape.

They end things on good terms, after all, both knew that they weren't meant to be. He thinks he'll keep her as a friend. She's pretty bad ass.

xviii

He's done it. He can't believe it himself. He's finally saved up enough money that he can escape this dead end city that seems to imprison him.

He's packing up his bags. He's done leaving notes for his love ones.

It's kind of stuffy in his apartment. He opens a window to let some fresh air in.

Just as he finishes packing up his huge brown leather suitcase with all his necessities, he sees something on his nightstand. It seems to be a crumpled piece of paper, folded into an airplane.

There's a bright pink lipstick mark on the wing, it's a little bit faded because of the sun, but it's still recognizable.

The plane itself is a little bit wrinkled because he shoved it into his pocket all those months ago, but it still takes the shape of the airplane.

He smiles to himself and straightens out the plane until it is to its previous perfection.

Smiling, he leaves the apartment for a short stroll before he leaves for good. He takes out his picnic basket and fills it with food. He might as well enjoy his last day here.

The paper airplane stays on the nightstand.

As if it were magic, a wind blows inside, sweeping the airplane from its place on the nightstand and sending it flying out into the world.

xviv

He's taking a stroll, stopping by his favourite place for the last time. He comes to a stop at a huge tree that sits in the centre of the park. He pulls out his red and white checkered picnic blanket from his wicker basket and spreads it out onto the ground.

He remembers bringing his Latina here and he laughs at the good times. A thought strikes his mind. He thinks about the brunette for the first time in a while. What would have happened if they had met?

No. That's a stupid question. He takes out his sandwiches and eats while he relaxes in the shade of the tree.

xx

On the other side of town, a lone, stained airplane floated around. A leggy brunette walks below. The plane zooms in front of her and catches her eye. As if she were in a trance, she follows the plane.

The plane sweeps over flowers and makes its way through the busy streets, going through the city as if were a maze. It leads her around the concrete jungle until it is greeted with a wide open park, sprawling far and wide. It guides her to a tree.

To be more specific, it leads her to a certain tree.

A certain tree with a certain someone.

A certain someone eating a sandwich and reclining in the shade.

xxi

The plane lands with a plop right beside him. He opens his eyes.

What the heck. He thought he left that at home.

A pair of really nice legs come into view beside his head. He looks up. He sees _her_.

She looks down and she sees _him_.

xxii

Her life. Well, it hasn't been that easy. She had two dads who dared to be different, making her the laughing stock everywhere. She wasn't mad at her dads, she loved them. She just hated how she was the outsider to everything in life.

She thinks back to the day she first saw _him_.

She was at the station, waiting for her train.

He was standing there, looking cute as ever.

And then she loses grip of her paper and he heroically catches it.

Then, one of his papers goes smack straight into his face.

She accidentally stained his paper but couldn't talk with him after because she was about to miss her stinkin' train.

She never even said goodbye.

She's seen him around before. But both times, he was with other woman so she gave up.

What is she even doing here now? He's probably taken.

She doesn't even know why she followed that airplane. It was just _magical_.

xxiii

"Hi." He blurts out awkwardly after a moment of silence.

"Hi." She says, shyly, brushing her hair behind her ears.

"So. This might be awkward. But I'm Finn."

"Rachel."

That's a really pretty name, he thinks.

They talk for the rest of the day.

They get to know each other.

He decides that he should probably stop things before they start, after all, he's leaving.

When he tells her about his plans, she looks down sadly.

"You know, you can come with me if you want to."

"I want to."

xxiv

They pack her stuff and leave her apartment with stealth. She leaves him speechless when she kisses him out of the blue, filling his mind with happy thoughts. And at night break, they leave town together. To a new life. A better life. Together.

xxv

On their wedding day, a lone paper flies in the breeze, unbeknownst to the two of them. From the ground, you can kind of see a glimmer of a bright pink stain on one of the wings.

**Okay so first of all, I apologize for it being so short, but I hope this fends you off, for me not updating. ): sorry about that . secondly, I AM WORKING ON IT NOT TO WORRY. I've also gotten new ideas, that are in planning, but don't worry. I'll finish my other stories before I actually write them out. Once again, I'm sorry, and I only updating today because my laptop was hella annoying and nagging me about this. **

**-awkwardegleekell**


End file.
